


extra foam, please

by untakenbeepun



Series: ...And That's The Trope [1]
Category: Kaleidotrope (Podcast)
Genre: Harrison has an apron kink, Other, but Harrison is pretending that it's an AU, coffee shop AU, don't we all, it makes total sense, it's not an really an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untakenbeepun/pseuds/untakenbeepun
Summary: Drew gets a job at Kishi's. Harrison can barely handle it.





	extra foam, please

**Author's Note:**

> i have never drunk coffee in my life and i don't know what any of these words mean

Drew discovered the application on his desk a few days after mentioning the need to find a job.

He sucked in a breath and rolled his eyes, picking up the application before heading to the kitchen.

“Harrison?” he said, leaning against the doorframe and waving the piece of paper in the air. “What’s this?”

Harrison, half-in and half-out of his pyjamas, was sat on the counter, gnawing on a jam-covered piece of toast. His face wasn’t quite the picture of innocence; the shine in his eyes and the flicker of a smile across his lips gave him away.

“A job application?” he said, spraying crumbs everywhere.

“And how did it end up on my desk?” asked Drew.

“I thought you were looking for jobs,” Harrison said, hiding a smile as he sipped his tea, “it’s as good as any.”

“Oh, so you have no ulterior motive for me to work here in particular?”

Harrison hopped off the counter. “Yes,” he said, slowly making his way towards Drew. “Flexible hours, you have previous training, good pay—”

“—Harrison,” Drew said, dryly.

“—aprons,” Harrison said, that devilish grin of his lighting up his face, his eyes shining as he wound his arms around Drew’s neck. “I _love_ a man in an apron.”

Drew kissed him then, but only because it was hard to resist Harrison when he was this close. For a moment, he almost forgot himself, slipping the application onto the counter so he could wind his arms around Harrison’s waist and kiss him deeply.

Their lips parted for a breath, Drew looking down with half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not applying,” he whispered.

Harrison pulled away. “Why not?”

“Because you’d enjoy it too much,” Drew said. “Also, the hats. Those hats are ridiculous.”  

Harrison pouted. “But it’d be fuuun,” he whined.

“For who, exactly?”

“Think about it! I could hang out while you’re working, you’d get a discount—”

“—All the drinks taste kind of the same, anyway.”

Harrison gasped, scandalized. “ _Drew_ ,” he said, “how could you say something like that?”

“They do!” Drew said. “And the last one I had kind of tasted like I was sucking on car keys.”

“Stop. Stop. Stop.” Harrison screwed his fingers into his ears. “I can’t listen to this.”  

Drew grinned. “And the atmosphere,” he said, “ _downright tacky._ ”

Harrison drummed his hands on Drew’s chest. “Stop it!”

Drew laughed, wrapping his arms around Harrison and burying his nose into his hair. “You’re cute when you’re outraged,” he said, his lips brushing against Harrison’s curls.

Despite Drew’s heinous comments, Harrison let himself melt into Drew’s arms, loving the feeling of being pressed close to Drew’s warm chest.

“You should still apply,” he said, voice muffled. “It’s on campus. You’d be close to class. And here. And me. And you _do_ need a job.”

“I know I do,” Drew said, “but I will take absolutely anything over that. Absolutely _anything.”_

* * *

 

Absolutely anything didn’t _quite_ pan out the way Drew had hoped.

“Hi,” Drew said, a forced smile on his face as he stood behind the counter, frilly apron and white folded hat on his head. “Welcome to Kishi’s. Can I take your order?”

“I don’t know,” the student behind the counter said, simpering and batting their eyelids. “ _Surprise me._ ”

“Brilliant,” Drew said, his face blank as he turned a way to make the same black coffee he made everyone who asked him to surprise them. 

A few customers passed through, Drew working almost on auto-pilot, doing his best to keep busy with cleaning the coffee machines where ever possible instead of dealing with the mass of Sidlesmith students hoping for a trope.

He turned back at the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then had to bite back his laughter as he saw Harrison, dressed in sunglasses and a trench coat, standing in front of the counter.

“Harrison,” he said, trying to keep his voice flat despite the smile edging at his lips.

“Who’s Harrison?” Harrison said, putting on a fake low voice. “My name is Rav.”

“Harrison, I know it’s you.”

“There’s no Harrison here!” said Harrison. “Only Rav.”

Drew smothered a laugh and faked a sigh, putting on a deadpan voice. “What can I get for you, Rav?”

Harrison leaned across the counter. “A cappuccino,” he said, fake voice fading away in favour of a seductive drawl. He slid his sunglasses down to wink at Drew, and leaned further across the counter until almost his whole body was pressed along the surface. “ _Extra foam, please.”_

“...Right away,” Drew said, his voice slightly strained as he turned away to make the coffee.

When he turned around, Harrison was waiting at a table, his terrible disguise shed.

“I’m sorry,” Drew said, “I made this coffee for Rav, you wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

Harrison beamed the way he always did when Drew went along with his jokes. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’ll keep it for him until he gets back.”

Before Drew could leave, Harrison’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“I was right,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“About what?”

Harrison’s eyes flickered up and down Drew, his tongue running along his lips. “You look _really_ good in that apron.”

“Harrison.” His voice was stilted. “I’m at work.”

“Only until seven,” Harrison said. “ _And I’ll be waiting.”_

Drew went back behind the counter with blood rushing to his cheeks, acutely aware of Harrison’s eyes tracking him for the rest of the shift.

* * *

 

The next day Harrison didn’t bother with a disguise.

“Caramel latte, please,” he said, smiling at Drew like sunshine on a cold morning.

The corners of Drew’s lips ticked upwards. “Under what name?”

“Rocky.”

A fond smile spread across Drew’s face. “And is that for here or to go?”  

“Oh, for here,” Harrison said, his elbows pressed on the counter as he looked up at Drew, “I live for the _scenery_.”

“I’m sure you do,” Drew said, doing his best to keep his voice level. “I’ll bring it over to you when it’s ready.”

Harrison had to leave before Drew’s shift was over, but that didn’t stop him from leaving behind a napkin with a lipstick kiss stain under the empty coffee mug.

Later that night, Drew came home to find Harrison waiting for him on the sofa, wearing one of Drew’s shirts and no pants, lipstick refreshed and looking up at him with a big shit-eating grin.

“You,” Drew said in lieu of a hello, pulling off his apron and throwing the hat into the corner, “are going to get me into trouble.”

“And you’re still bad at pretending that Rocky isn’t a sexy name.”

Drew grinned, marching across the room and pulling Harrison up off the sofa and toward the bedroom, giggles filling the air.

* * *

 

On Wednesday, Harrison asked for a flat white to go under the name Deb.

Drew wrote his name on the cup in hearts and scrawled a love note at the end.

Later he found the paper cup sitting pride of place on their coffee table.

* * *

 

On Thursday, Franz appeared, ordering a macchiato and sitting at his usual table, drinking slowly and deeply and watching Drew’s every move.  

At the end of his shift, Drew discovered a folded up napkin in the back of his pocket with Harrison’s number, signed with a kiss. He rolled his eyes, but kept it tucked in his wallet anyway.

* * *

 

On Friday, Shosta showed up and ordered a latte.  

“Sooo,” he said, twirling a lock of his hair, “what time do you get off, handsome stranger?”

“Eight,” Drew said, “and I’ll see you at home, _Harrison._ ”

“I’ll be waiting,” Harrison said. He leaned across the counter, looking up at Drew with an expression that was utterly lewd. “And I’ll be thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as you’re off the clock.”  

Drew nearly poured hot coffee over himself.

* * *

 

On Saturday, Harrison was Harrison, with his bright pink hair and full-watt smile.

“Oh no!” he gasped in mock distress, his whole body all but thrown across the counter. “It seems I have forgotten my wallet. How will I ever pay for this?”  

“Oh, well,” Drew said, quirking an eyebrow and winking, “I think a kiss will do.”

Harrison darted across the counter, his fist curling around Drew’s apron straps and tugging him forward, pulling him into a kiss. For a moment, Drew forgot where he was, the red and pink walls of Kishi’s fading away as he twisted his fingers in Harrison’s curls and kissed him hard.

Then the there was a loud cough and Harrison and Drew flew apart.

“Well, uh,” Drew said, flushed red, wiping lipstick stains away with the back of his hand. “Take a seat and I’ll bring your drink to you.”

Harrison winked and sauntered away, but not before slipping the money for the coffee onto the counter.

* * *

 

“Well,” Drew announced as he opened the door, kicking his shoes off into one corner. “I got fired from Kishi’s.”

“What?!”

There was a sound of something crashing – the tell-tale signs of pots and pans being dropped on the floor – and then Harrison stumbled out of the kitchen. “What happened?” he said, looking utterly scandalized.

“My manager objected to a member of staff making out with a customer during rush hour,” Drew said, dropping down onto the sofa and letting out a sigh.

“But – it’s Kishi’s!” Harrison protested, “aren’t you like, contractually obligated to flirt with customers?”

“...I think flirting and kissing across the counter are two different things.”

“Damn,” Harrison said quietly, sinking down onto the sofa beside Drew. “Sorry I lost you your job.”

“It’s fine, I was going to quit anyway,” Drew said, nestling down to rest his head on Harrison’s shoulder.

“Why?!”

“I was getting tired of customers that weren’t you trying to flirt with me.”

A possessive look passed over Harrison’s face as he subconsciously inched closer to Drew. “I see.”

“And those _hats._ ” Drew’s nose wrinkled. “Those hats were an atrocity.”

Harrison laughed warmly. He snuggled down beside Drew, wrapping his arms around Drew’s chest and pulling him close.

“That apron though,” he whispered, his lips brushing past Drew’s ear, “ _I am going to miss you in that apron._ ”

A pleasant shiver ran through Drew. “I’ll buy one for the kitchen immediately. Then maybe you can actually take that one off of me.”

That was all Harrison needed; his hands slipped up to grip the collar of Drew’s shirt, pulling him close and kissing him fiercely. Drew let himself be pulled back, feeling warm and giddy with Harrison’s lips on his, Harrison’s hands in his hair, Harrison’s body on top of his.

His last few thoughts before his brain lost all coherency was to muse on the fact that every day that week, every day he’d been wearing that Kishi’s apron, he’d ended up in the same place at the end of each day: unkempt and dishevelled, covered in Harrison’s lipstick stains.

Huh. Maybe getting a job at Kishi’s hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [bee-elzebub](https://bee-ezlebub.tumblr.com/) and on twitter at [@untakenbeepun](https://twitter.com/untakenbeepun)


End file.
